Strands of Colour
by something-like-love
Summary: [Everyone’s a colour, if it’s only in my mind, but a lot of things in my mind are different from the real world.] Character sketch of Ariana Dumbledore.


**Disclaimer: **You'll find no witty disclaimer here- I don't own Harry Potter nor anything affliated with it.

**Author's Note: **Originally written for "Rainbow Magic," a collaboration of brilliant author's, who each write a piece on a different character, centering on the word rainbow. Go check it out! It's in my favorites!

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Look at the lovely sky outside. It's been raining for such a very long time, but rain is really the loveliest thing of all. Drops are falling down the windowsill, and I trace them with my finger, pretending I can feel their moisture absorbing into my hand.

The grass is dewy now that the rain has stopped, and I remember what Aberforth told me about what happens after it rains. I didn't believe him at first, but then Albus said it was true, so now I know that more often than not rain brings rainbows. I've never seen one except in the books Abe brought for me one day, and it looked so pretty I wanted to reach into the page and touch it.

But I learned a very long time ago I can't do those things. Not like Albus and sometimes Abe can; but a lot of times when I'm just in between waking and sleeping, I think that once I might have been able to. It's all very vague, and my mouth won't coordinate with my brain to say it out loud, because my words get all twisted up and fall out of my mouth like they're broken and no one understands.

The clouds are parting. I peer anxiously out the window, because maybe today might be the day I see a rainbow. In that odd place where I'm not really asleep but not really awake, I think it might be nice to sit on a rainbow one day. It would be very high up, but I wouldn't be scared, because like Mum says all the time I'm a very brave girl. In the picture from the books, the red at the very beginning of the rainbow reminds me of Daddy. It's loud and it's first and it's in front of everybody and everything. I miss Daddy, but Mum says he'll be back soon, so I'm not worried. He just went on a trip is all.

The orange is like Albus, did you know that? Albus is always second, just after Daddy, and not _quite _as loud, and not _quite _as attention grabbing, but special in his very own way. It's the shade in-between the sweet yellow and bright red, and so is Al, right in the middle.

Sweet yellow is just for Mum, of course, she's so sweet and I very much want to tell her that, but oh! How frustrating that when words come into my brain they don't make it out of my mouth! I just want to tell my mother how soft and shining she is, just like a bright star, because people always gravitate towards her, it's true. At the parties I went to when I was a baby (I don't go anymore, I don't know why, but it's probably just because Mum's getting too old and too tired to go out that much) she was at the center of a conversation every time.

When I see green I think of Abe, I don't really know why. He's so calm and soft, just like the grass is when I feel it tickling my toes when Mum let's me go out into the lawn at night. She's so nice to let me go out at night, when it's the prettiest of all. But Abe is green like that old expression, what was it exactly? "The green-eyed monster." Daddy told me it means someone is jealous. I think Abe is a little jealous of Al. Al is book smart, and he knows everything there ever is to know and more, but Abe never forgets me, like Al sometimes does. But I know it's because he's busy so I forgive him. Abe is soft like green, and he reads me stories about rainbows.

Blue is another matter entirely. I once said it to Al in not so many words, and he thinks it's silly, but blue is like Margarine, my cat. Of course, everyone thinks it's silly to have a cat named Margarine, but I like margarine. It's sweet and soft and so is my cat. But Margarine isn't the colour blue, she's just _blue._ She mopes about my room all the time in a slump, but even though she's sad she makes me calm. Sometimes I get really mad, and I can't explain why, like the time Mum was trying to teach me how to lace up a corset, but the strings got twisted in my fingers, and when I tried to tell my fingers to move one way they moved the opposite, and I just got too _upset, _and I sat down on the bed and cried and cried. But Margarine sat in my lap and my heart stopped beating so fast and my face got pale again and I felt better.

At the very end of the rainbow, there's indigo. I don't really know why, but indigo is just me. I'm always at the end, the last to be introduced, if at all, and the last to know things, the last in line _always. _But indigo is the darkest, and I'm dark too, I suppose. In my way of living, if that makes any sense. I once saw Al and Abe outside climbing trees, and I started crying again because I so wanted to go too! But I couldn't, I had to stay in my dim room and watch them play in the light.

Everyone's a colour, if it's only in my mind, but a lot of things in my mind are different from the real world. And now I'm still waiting to see a rainbow.

I see a glitter of light pass through the grey sky. Can it be? I hold my breath as the clouds part once again to reveal the sparkling, shimmering colours off in the distance.

It's a real live rainbow! It's so much prettier than I ever imagined anything could be, with the colours fading in and out of each other yet still fitting perfectly. I give a great laugh of happiness and Al walks into the room with my lunch.

"Here Ari, I've got your food. What are you looking at?" He sets down the tray and looks out the window with me before cracking a smile. "What do you know, it's a rainbow. Do you like it, Ari?"

"Oh, yes!" I want to shout. "It's the most glorious thing, red for Daddy, orange for you, yellow for mum, green for Abe, blue for Margarine and indigo for me! See how we fit just right? Al, I don't think anything has ever been so lovely! How can you not stare at it all day long?"

But the same thing happens as it does every time I try to speak. The words get moved around and the letters switch places and my tongue is tied, and all I can mutter is, "So pretty, Al."


End file.
